The Lady is a Tramp
by sail-on-forever
Summary: Éponine's a model entangled in the complicated world of fashion. Enjolras' a law student intent on changing France for the better. They meet at a café one day and their lives are changed forever. As Enjolras tries to save Éponine from her destructive lifestyle, Éponine awakens something in the marble man. Different people from different worlds, will they be doomed from the start?
1. Chapter 1: At the Beginning

**Hello there, I've been snooping around here for a few weeks and I love the quality of the fics here! I've decided to try writing a little for our favorite couple and if you like it, do tell me. I hope you will enjoy the first chapter and here it goes! (I've edited this chapter and lengthened it; I believe I will stick with this story until the end. Do read it even if you've read my first attempt, I've changed some stuff and added new things.)**

Éponine believes that she had loved once before, many years ago, back when she was more innocent and less cynical. It was her first year at college and his second. He was handsome of course, with his high cheekbones and long lashes, and he was kind. There was always something soft in his eyes and she used to joke that he would probably be the only lawyer with a soul in the future.

Thinking back though, she was probably never more than an acquaintance to Marius. He had a girlfriend whom he absolutely adored, a rather boring blonde who was always too eager to help anyone, whether they were in need or not. Éponine used to think that if Cosette was the day, then she was the night. They were so different that Éponine could not understand how they could have fallen for the same man.

It had almost come as a slap to her face when Marius rushed up to her one day after class, face rosy and short of breath, announcing excitedly that he and Cosette were, as he put it, _finally engaged. _The dolorous sounds of wedding bells rang dully in her head and Éponine was more than eager to escape it.

And escape did come in a rather curious form.

Éponine had been approached by a man in a cheap suit while walking, or rather, stumbling back home the previous night. Melancholic and a little drunk, she would have been completely powerless if the man had been a criminal. Thankfully, he wasn't, instead he was a mousy head-hunter, who obviously detested his job.

"Excuse me mademoiselle," he had stopped Éponine in her track, placing both his hands on her shoulders. She would have thought that was a rude thing to do, if she wasn't so drunk.

"I would like you to take my name card and if you're interested, call me in the morning." The man had hurriedly placed a card in Éponine's palm and she vaguely remembered stuffing it into her pocket.

It wasn't until laundry day that she discovered the crumpled piece of cardboard in the pocket of her jeans. It still smelt faintly of the cheap cologne that the man wore.

Éponine turned the card to one side and it read, "You've what it takes to become a model!" in Comics Sans and on the other side, it listed the particulars of a certain Monsieur Poirot. Éponine giggled at the name, recalling the famous detective from Agatha Christie's mystery novels.

"A model?" Éponine contemplated quickly, chewing on her nail. She had been living on ramen for almost half a year already and her manager at Starbucks was always trying to hit on her. She owed Musichetta a month's worth of rent money and she haven't been to the mall for a really long time.

What was so hard with posing for a few pictures or walking down a runway? If it could help to pay off some of her debts then of course she would be more than willing to do it. Éponine also acknowledged there was also a certain glamour associated with modelling and Éponine could not give up the opportunity so quickly.

Éponine picked up her mobile phone and dialled the number on the card.

"Bonjour, is this Monsieur Poirot?"

* * *

They had arranged to meet on a Friday evening, after her shift at Starbucks. The address he gave her was unfamiliar and she had to look it up on Google. It turned out it was at a really isolated part of town.

She had almost gotten lost, with the tall buildings around her all looking the same. An old lady had finally pointed to her the direction she was to walk in, but her tone was condescending and disapproving.

Éponine understood why as she got nearer. Young women stood along the sides of the street, dressed indecently as they clawed at any men that walked passed. Some of the women barely looked eighteen and Éponine felt sick just thinking about it. A couple of the women were gathered at a side, puffing haughtily on their cigarettes. They sized Éponine up carefully, finally deciding that she was probably not one of them.

A heavy hand landed on her ass and squeezed it, as a man chuckled behind her.

"How much?" he asked gruffly, rubbing himself on her behind.

She turned around ferociously, fist held up, ready to strike.

"I am not for hire. Get your filthy hand off me!" she shrieked, as the man released his hold on her.

A pretty brunette headed straight to the man, placing her small hands on his chest.

"She ain't for hire, sir, but I am." She whispered seductively into his ear, pulling the middle-aged man into one of the buildings.

Éponine was more than ready to leave the disgusting place when suddenly, a door flew open and a small moustached man stepped out.

"You must be Mademoiselle Thénardier, I am Jean-Pierre Poirot, do come into my office." He gestured, nodding his head quickly, like a bobblehead doll.

* * *

"I am very sorry for what happened outside, we are a new company and to be completely honest, this is the only part of Paris we could afford." Monsieur Poirot smiled apologetically, placing a cup of aromatic coffee in front of Éponine.

Éponine glanced around the tiny office. It was bare except for a table, a computer, two chairs and an intrinsic-looking coffee machine that took up almost half the space. Monsieur Poirot quickly recognised the look of disinterest and slight annoyance on her face and he continued.

"But I can assure you that we are a completely legitimate business and it would be an honour to work with you." He sat down opposite Éponine, taking out a file.

"Now," he continued, putting on his most sincere smile, when the door swung open, revealing a tall, slim, graceful woman in her fifties at the door.

"Jean," she spoke, placing her handbag on the table.

"I just met with the landlord; he informed me that you haven't fixed the leakage problem?" she raised her eyebrow, hand on her hip.

"Bu..but..Madame," Monsieur Poirot stuttered, standing up to take the woman's coat from her.

"Ah Jean, details of your incompetence do not interest me." The woman sighed, shaking her head.

"And who are you?" the woman faced Éponine, furrowing her brows.

"Madame Lynd, Éponine Thénardier. Éponine, Madame Camille Lynd." Monsieur Poirot introduced the two women to each other.

Madame Lynd nodded, sitting down on the chair Jean-Pierre Poirot was sitting on at first.

"You've no style or sense of fashion." Madame Lynd said plainly, lighting up a cigarette.

"What?" Éponine was more confused that offended. This whole evening seemed like a really bad sitcom.

"My dear, I do not like to repeat myself." Madame Lynd replied nonchalantly.

"Jean, why did you send a gutter rat into our office?" she continued, secretly gauging Éponine's response.

"I'm sorry? A gutter rat? Monsieur Poirot, I am afraid I am not interested in working for your _company._" Éponine voiced her words carefully, eyeing Madame Lynd irately, as she turned to leave.

"Stop there. Stomach in, chest out. Pull your shoulders back. Don't fidget, girl! Stand straight." Madame Lynd commanded.

She was impressed by the girl. Jean-Pierre hadn't been wrong for once; Éponine had the physique and face to become a model. And now she recognised first hand that the girl had the attitude to become a top model, maybe even a supermodel, if she was lucky. To survive in this industry, a girl must know how to stand on her own, and Éponine had proven she was more than capable of that in their short encounter.

Éponine stood there waiting, feeling absurd that she was following the instructions.

Madame Lynd spoke again, "Éponine Thénardier, I'll groom you to become a top model, and you'll be known all over the world. Men will desire and worship you; women will want to be just like you. You'll become Camille Lynd's protégée and you will be at the top of the world!"

There was a stunned silence and then Éponine laughed suddenly, collapsing on the floor.

"Oh please, spare me this." She laughed, gathering her belongings on the floor.

"You and I both know that that is impossible." Éponine shook her head, gathering up her belongings.

"Enough nonsense, girl! Come here." Madame Lynd ordered.

By the end of the night, Éponine Thénardier found herself signed under Lynd's Modelling Agency and half-believing that she could become a supermodel one day.

* * *

Éponine workload grew as she found herself rushing after class to go for photo shoots. They were small assignments, but they paid enough for her to return the rent money to a surprised Musichetta. Her Friday nights were spent in the apartment of a certain Madame Lynd for modelling lessons.

They were sitting on the sofa when Madame Lynd pointed to a photo on her Macbook.

"Look Éponine, who is this?"

"Victoria Beckham?" Éponine replied, unsure where the conversation was going.

"The whole world knows her, those who loves her wants to be her, those who hates her, wants to be her. She is cool. She is calm. And people, they recognise that. They know that she's the best, they know that she knows that she's the best, and they respect that."

Madame Lynd paused, turning back to Éponine to glare at her. Éponine straightened up, pushing her shoulders back.

"There is nothing more valuable in this world than confidence, my dear." Madame Lynd placed a hand on Éponine's shoulder, in an oddly motherly fashion.

"And the first lesson from me, girl: always be cool and collected. No tears, no too-wide smiles, I hate those. You are above everyone and you will not be affected by anyone, do you hear?"

**I know it's not much, but I just want to know how you feel about my style of writing and if it's worth it to continue. Madame Camille Lynd is inspired by Miranda Priestly from The Devil Wears Prada. I have copied some quotes from her, I hope you don't mind! I know that there's no Enjolras yet, but I want to have some background about Éponine gradual descent and who she was before she meets Enjolras. There will probably be 2-3 more chapters on just Éponine and her career, so I hope this chapter didn't bore you! Do comment and thank you for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2: Spiral

**Thank you for the reviews, I will try my best to update as frequently as possible, but with my crazy work schedule, it will be very difficult to write and upload within the same week. Do forgive me. I am glad you enjoyed the first chapter; I hope you will like the second chapter too. Review to tell me about how you feel about it and if there is any way for me to improve. Read on and enjoy!**

"You've got to quit school, my dear child!" Madame Lynd was so agitated that her voice went a few pitches higher than her usual deep tone.

"Do you know how hard I work for you? Just this morning I contacted Hervé Chapelier." Madame Lynd paused for effect.

"And…they agreed to meet you, a no-body, simply because I told them that you were my protégée." The woman continued arrogantly, looking pointedly at Éponine, as though she expected Éponine to thank her.

"Ummm…thanks?" Éponine shrugged her shoulders, having no idea who or what Hervé Chapelier was.

"Thanks? Is that all? My dear, do you know what Hervé Chapelier is?"

Éponine shook her head and Madame Lynd sighed dramatically.

Mon Dieu, you're dumber than I thought possible!" Madame Lynd cried, falling back onto the sofa.

"In any case, you're to quit that nonsense of a university. Focus all your time on fashion, learn to breathe fashion, taste fashion and then at last, you will become fashion." Madame Lynd lectured, leaning so close that Éponine could smell her cigarette breath.

"I'll think about it." Éponine finally replied.

Madame Lynd sucked in a breath, shocked that Éponine had dared to defy her. Her eyes flashed furiously.

"Leave now. Get out of my house. Do not return until you've decided what's right for you." Madame Lynd said calmly, pointing to the door, as she lighted up another cigarette.

A cloud of smoke covered her features.

"But, Madame..." Éponine stammered, stunned by the woman's sudden change in mood.

"Leave." The older woman turn to look away, as Éponine stood up shakily to collect her coat.

"Goodbye, Madame."

The door slammed shut and the old lady was left alone with only her ugly thoughts to accompany her.

* * *

Quitting school was not something Éponine even wanted to consider, especially when she had strived so hard to enter it. She was majoring in Literature, a discipline that she absolutely adored. Books and poetry were the only way for her to escape her bleak childhood and they were her ever faithful companions.

Éponine had run away from home at the age of sixteen, after she had caught her father peeping at her while she was bathing. She recalled screaming at the top of her lungs when she saw her father's dark, lusty eyes peering at her, with his pants around his ankles. She had hurriedly dressed, soap still clinging on to her body, and ran off into the dark night.

She did not stop until she crashed into a police officer making his rounds.

And then she had finally collapsed on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably, totally spent from the ordeal she had endured.

The following year was filled with terrible lawsuits and trials. Éponine travelled from one foster parent to another, never quite making a home out of any place. Eventually, her siblings and she became wards of the state, and their parents were rightfully placed in prison. She did not feel anything when the verdict was read.

Azelma and Gavroche were adopted shortly by a loving older couple after the concluding trial, being relatively younger and thus, "cuter" than Éponine. Meanwhile, Éponine was shuffled to a boarding school in Bordeaux, where she received a good education and a relatively friendly environment. It was there where she worked hard enough to enter one of the top universities in Paris.

That is not to say that life in Bordeaux was easy. Though she was not bullied by her peers, the other teenagers recognised that Éponine was not like them and avoided her. Éponine kept to herself in school and her precious books became her only friends during those two dark years.

Éponine's life was cold and dark, until she met Marius on her first day at _Université de Paris. _He had offered to carry her baggage after seeing her struggle to walk up the stairs of her apartment's building and from there, a friendship was formed. Oh Marius, the lovely boy was wonderful and kind and beautiful and he brightened up every aspect of her life…but it hurt her so much to think about him.

Éponine sighed exhaustedly, opening the door of her apartment.

* * *

"Ah look, our resident celebrity is finally home!" Musichetta announced in her sing-song voice as she rushed to hug Éponine.

Éponine half-smiled and kissed Musichetta on the cheeks.

Musichetta frowned, shaking her head.

"Oh babe, don't look so glum, Marius was here just a moment ago, said he wanted to pass you something!" Musichetta handed Éponine a letter.

A letter from Marius? To her? Maybe he finally realised that she had been missing so many classes or even better, maybe he finally realised his feelings for her, or maybe Cosette broke up with him, or maybe…

Éponine tore open the envelope excitedly as Musichetta stood over her shoulder.

"Marius Pontmercy and Cosette Fabre invite you to join them for a party announcing their engagement on Sunday…." Musichetta trailed off, glancing worriedly at Éponine.

The poor girl's face was completely blank and emotionless, but Musichetta was quick enough to notice the small light in her eyes dimming. Marius Pontmercy was going to be the death of Musichetta! She decided that she was going to give the boy a good earful the next time they met.

"You know hun, you don't have to go. We could stay home and watch _Little Miss Sunshine _or _Forrest Gump _and eat ice cream straight out of the tub and tell embarrassing childhood stories?" Musichetta offered, squeezing Éponine's shoulder gently.

Éponine flinched, avoiding Musichetta's eyes.

"I'll go." She replied softly.

* * *

"Alright Mademoiselle, look here, tilt your head up. Good, good, stare straight ahead. Alright, shift slightly to your left. Perfect!" the photographer gestured wildly as Éponine sat uncomfortably on the hood of a LaFerrari, with a handbag hanging on her forearm.

Madame Lynd looked on proudly by the side, chatting with the Hervé Chapelier representative. After numerous meetings and negotiations, Hervé Chapelier had finally signed Éponine up for one of their advertisement shots.

"Alright, that's a wrap!" the photographer declared, patting the other workers on the back. Éponine slid down the hood, adjusting her dress.

"Good job, Mademoiselle Thénardier, we look forward to working with you again soon." The Hervé Chapelier representative shook her hand politely and turned to leave.

Madame Lynd sighed, giving Éponine a stiff hug.

"Ah ma petite chérie, this is our first step to success. Next we will move on to Prada, Hermés, Armani, Yves Saint-Laurent, Lacroix….ah yes maybe even Victoria's Secret!" Madame Lynd exclaimed, clasping her hands together.

"Now about your nasty university…" she continued, eyeing Éponine sharply.

"Madame, I am late for…something. Another day, perhaps?" Éponine frowned, glancing down at her phone.

Madame Lynd nodded reluctantly, and Éponine turned to leave.

She was late Marius' engagement party.

**I hope you like chapter 2,do tell me how you feel about it. Thank you for reading! **


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